


Best Served Tripping Balls

by AceQueenKing



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Fashion & Couture, Mage Lavellan - Freeform, Mages, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 10:50:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12680397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: After the Inquisitor makes a few too many alarming decisions that have displeased Vivienne, she recruits an unlikely ally to get back at the sources of her displeasure.





	Best Served Tripping Balls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hibernate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hibernate/gifts).



Madame de Fer did not hesitate in her task, even as her step took her across the rather filthy tavern that the Inquisitor had insisted on having at Skyhold. She wrinkled her nose and ignored the jabbering hoots and hollers of idiots as she strode her way across the floor. No one argued with her, not even Krem, who gave her a steely nod. He, if anything, looked amused.

She climbed the stairs to the second room, hoping that the rumors as to where the little elf's playroom was located were true. She'd never had much reason to look for the rogue - oh, a cute little thing to be sure, but she'd had Sebastian - but certain events had plied her hands.

Certain events involving their Inquisitor, at least. Kaira Lavellan was a beauty, too, similar to Sera - short ears, short hair, short temper - but she'd chosen the wrong side far too often. First, there was the business where she'd chosen to support the mages; that, Vivienne could almost forgive. She, too, had had a hard time adjusting to the more austere conditions of the circle, and she was willing to chalk it up as a difference between elven traditions and human ones. Their culture was a queer one, after all, utterly beyond her understanding - but Madame de Fer did not judge. But then there had been that near-deal with the demon, Ishmael; the protection of that Spirit-form, Cole; her choosing to support an  _elf_  to the throne of Orlais  (oh, she'd preserved Queen Celene, but as a figurehead only), and that wretched Solas - the looks between them had not failed to capture her attention. Nor had the Inquisitor's role in preserving Solas' pet, Wisdom. 

Unlike Solas, Vivienne knew that demons were not friends. She'd seen the acceptance in his eyes, and - worse - the pleasure in Inquisitor Lavellan's. 

And she'd known, then, what she had to do. 

She curled her hands around her arms and strutted up to the second floor. More patrons here, the scent of sweat on most of them overpowering. She'd have to have outside support in this but desperate times called for desperate measures, and surely there was no more desperate day than this. 

She heard the little elf scampering about her hole, and relaxed. The little toad was in her hole, good; it would make this simpler. 

She crossed the hall over to the little girl's room, knocked on the door. "Darling, are you - ?"

Sera, who had been watching some drunken couple cavort on the lawn, cackling, abruptly stood. Her face toward Madame de Fer was, at best, confused.

"Magey? No no no, no magey here." She said. She started walking toward Viv, her pace fast.

"Darling, I'm afraid I have no clue what you mean," she said, though, of course, she did. Madame de Fer prided herself on her ability to read others, and right now the elvin Jenny registered nothing but  _fear_.  She put her hands out in an attempt to pacify the little rogue, but Sera simply banged the door closed.

Well, that went well, Vivienne thought. Sighing, she knocked on the door.

"Darling, I mean no harm," she said, knocking.

"You've come to change me into a toad!" The girl shouted.  "Baldie said he'd do it, and now he's sent you!"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Maker keep steady her hand. 

"I've come for no such thing," she said, raising an eyebrow. "And you should know better than to think that I am  _his_ friend, darling. Why if it were up to me, that apostate would have no place here at all."

Sera cackled, and Vivienne heard several cracks as Sera unpinned the locks. The door swung open, and Sera stood, a smile on her face. "Ha, wouldn't that be the thing? Can you imagine, aunty? Throwing him out on his fat chrome dome?"  
  
She raised one, immaculate eyebrow. "Oh, my dear, I am not quite anyone's auntie yet."  
  
"Can you imagine it, tho? Chrome dome!" Sera appeared to take no notice, her eyes still sparkling with mirth. "Look'it'im, bet he'd be a right sad elfy about it. You think they have some sad old elf words for this kind of situation?"  
  
"My dear, I think the elves have plenty of words for sad things, old or not," she said, making a mental note that the little elfling didn't seem too fond of elves herself. An odd thing but one that Vivienne was hoping would play into her hands today. 

"Ha, who cars about elvy words? They're all blah blah blah end of the word, blah blah sadness, blah blah take back the homeland blah.  _Boring_." She shrugged. 

"Indeed, darling. Might I come in and have a word?"

"Your funeral, aunty," she said. Vivienne opened her mouth to correct him, then thought better of it. Sera was not the type, she thought, for logic.  Her first impressions of the girl's lodgings confirmed that: books in every direction, papers tossed around. She admired a girl who read, but she admired a girl who was neat as well. She tried to traipse the girls' rather scattered place without crushing ...something but gave up when she noticed how the girl's room was so carefully - or carelessly - ruined. Not a step could be taken without some flutter of paper or crack of a book. 

"So - what's a big muckity like you doing with a little person like me?" Sera stretched, her hands "casually" falling upon a knife, one she picked up and ran fingers over. Carefully nuanced communication; threatening but subtly so. Perhaps her thought of Sera - a little toad, making noise and running on before anyone could find it - was a bit wrong. 

Good. She smiled a bit.  

"I've come to seek your help, little Jenny," she said; Sera raised an eyebrow, interested. "You know, darling, I'm sure, of our inquisitor."

"Ugh the big elfy-lover." Sera wrinkled her nose in purse distaste. Excellent. "Y'know she's got a crush on ol' baldy? Ugh. No accounting for taste in those elvies. Can you imagin' kissin'im? I bet he's all gross on his big baldy head. Gross."

"Indeed, darling," she said, swishing her skirts as she looked down out on the courtyard. Cole stood there, talking to the inquisitor. The Inquisitor smiled, which gave her all the reason in the world to decide further action was necessary.  "And that is exactly why I'm here. I've never trusted an apostate nor a man in beige, and Solas is unfortunately both." 

"Ha! I thought you were one of them borin' muckities, but you're alright, auntie," Sera said her smile like a knife. "Whatcha wanna do to him? Replace his tea with some dried mushrooms? We could make'im the funny kind, make'im think he were some kind of elfy tree."

"Tempting darling, but I was thinking more of the Inquisitor as our first target." Vivienne tried to lean back against the window, failed. "She's made some concerning decisions as of late." 

"Yeah, kissin' old baldy." Sera wrinkled her nose. "And ugh, you know, she's so into all that old elfy stuff."

"She is, yes, and it will bring her much sorry, I imagine," Vivienne said. "As it has brought so many of your people."

That, she realized, as soon as it was out of her mouth. Sera winced, and Vivienne almost recoiled, even as well trained as she was to show no weakness. 

"Her peoples," Sera said. "Not mine."  

"Of course, darling, I mis-spoke," she said, trying to smooth over the issue. "Forgive me."

"Maybe," Sera said, folding her arms. Her eyes sparkled, a stubborn fire in them, and Vivienne thought - ah, I should be careful with this one. She has a spark. She liked Sera, she realized, 

"Anyway, I think it's time to bring our Inquisitor and her 'baldy' as you so call him - " Sera cackled again - "a lesson in what it means to mess with things beyond their control, like spirits,  unrestrained magic, and - "

"Elfiness!" Sera said, delighted. A good sign.

"Anyway, darling, your skill set is far above my own in such a situation," Vivienne said, guessing that flattery would soothe her far more than any other type of words. "I am hoping I might depend on your skills?"  
  
"Sure aunty," Sera said, hopping toward her. Sera leaned casually against her windowsill, looking down on the Inquisitor and Cole. "Fer a price."  
  
"A price?" Vivienne raised an eyebrow. Perhaps Sera was far better at negotiations than she had thought she would be. Why, a bit of polish, some nicer clothing, and she'd make a good bard - if she could keep her mouth in check. Perhaps she would have a word in Orlais - there were a few bards she knew who would take on a trainee, especially if one brought rather - ah, discrete - skills, and Sera, she already knew, was excellent with a knife. 

"Yeah, you can afford it," she said, snorting. She looked over at Vivienne, a look somewhere between hunger and hatred. She'd never been looked at that way before, and it made her pause a moment, staring into the firey rogue's eyes. 

"And what is that, darling?" She snapped her fingers. "Say the word and I shall see if I can acquire what you seek."

"Oh, you've got it already, woof." Sera said, flattering herself. "I want a kiss."  
  
"A...a kiss?" Vivienne raised her eyebrows. "What happened to aunty?"  
  
"I'm young, not stupid," Sera said, throwing her arms around Vivienne's neck. "Bein' a mage is like bein' a little person, and if you want to teach it to the Inquisitor you don't like the big muckities either. And you're pretty, even if you do dress up in such witchy things."

"Witchy?" Vivienne spluttered, a rare loss of cool. "Darling, witch is a word for an apostate who lives in the swamps. I am a mage and I dress as such."  
  
"Yeah, well, the robes would look prettier on the floor if you ask me. All slippery. We could use'em to slide down the stairs all naked."  
  
"Darling," Vivienne said, unsure as to laugh or cry. "I'm quite certain every single patron out there would die of shock within seconds of such an unusual sight." Not to mention that she, herself, would die - of embarrassment. Sera just laughed and pulled her closer.

"So do we have a deal, auntie? I bet you're a good kisser. All that playing with the big dogs in Orlais, innit? Betcha had to kiss so much butt, you - "  
  
"My dear, that is quite enough," Vivienne said, sternly. Before Sera could open her mouth again and once more make Vivienne feel utterly mad for having taken the young elf under her wing, Vivienne leaned forward, pressing her lips to Sera's own. The kiss was chaste but not without possibilities - especially where Sera slide her tongue against her lip in a gesture far more subtle than she thought the girl capable of.  It went on a few seconds longer than was technically prudent, but Vivienne could not say she minded. 

"Wo-oof," Sera said, giggling. She leaned her head into Vivienne's chest, and Vivienne did not miss where her new friend's head fell but allowed her to go along with it. "This is nice, auntie. Guess I can see now whey you wear such witchy-"

"Darling, what do you say we go and pull a - how do you say - prank, upon our dear inquisitor while she is still...Distracted," Vivienne said, trying to distract her. Sera was a rather interesting sort, but her taste in fashion was - frankly - deplorable.   
  
VIvienne could not resist doing a bit of a strut as she left. 

\- - - 

**Five Hours Later**

Kaillan lead himtoward her bedroom like a lioness desperate to tackle her kill. He went along with it, albeit hesitantly. She had come upon him like a woman starved, and he - he had not realized how much he had lacked for company until he met her. She did not bother to light a math for her candles; there was only one thing on her mind, and, indeed, a dominant thought on his mind as well.

"Let me just head to the bed," she said. He swallowed, then nodded, taking a few steps behind her, watching her as she sashayed into the Inquisitor's bedchambers - and right onto the floor. 

He winced as she went head first over a table. She cursed in his name, his true name - not that he could tell her that - and looked up at him. "How did my chair get over here?" 

"I don't know," he said; he leaned down to pull her up and saw, by the starlight, that she was bleeding from a small cut on her cheek. Wonderful. "You're bleeding, ma'vhenan. Come into my parlor, darling, I've got plenty of herbs we could use to make a healing potion for you." 

She nodded, meekly. He did not need to see by the starlight to know she was blushing. He grabbed her arm, unwilling to let her fall again from random acts of remodeling, and led her slowly back down the hall, toward his study. 

He thought he saw a flash of blond and red, but surely his eyes were mistaken; who could think that Sera would be prowling around his chambers at this time of night? The sad little elven miscreant had not made it a secret how much she hated him.

"Come, my dear," he said, pulling her into his doorway. "I have just the tea to drink after we get you stitched up..."

He heard Vivienne laughing softly in the library above him; had he turned upwards, he would have seen here there, the noble Madam de Fer, elegantly waiting for him to try Sera's new, modified special blend. 


End file.
